


Slippery When Wet

by SpartanGuard



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS Cocktoberfest, F/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 11:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpartanGuard/pseuds/SpartanGuard
Summary: Emma just wants to take a shower and wash the tension of the day away. By herself. But of course, Killian can't have that—not when he's the one who could be relieving her stress. This is a recipe for disaster.





	Slippery When Wet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [distant_rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_rose/gifts).



> distant_rose has always longed for a shower fic wherein the actual hazards of shower sex are addressed, so this is my attempt to fill that void (and it fit the bill of CS Cocktoberfest). It ended up a bit more feelz-y than slapstick, but hopefully it's close to what you're after!

There was only one way to end a long, tiring day like today. Well, there were probably a couple, but Emma had settled on the one that involved the fewest number of people. 

The shower stream was falling wet and hot around her, soothing her sore muscles and clearing her mind. She ran her hands through her hair, over her face, and continued to trail them down her body until she got to the other part that needed a release of its own, and went about taking care of that as well.

She was so lost in her self-ministrations, starting to fall apart to the press of her fingers against her clit and elsewhere, that she didn’t notice the door to the bathroom open, or the brush of cold air when the shower curtain briefly parted.

It wasn’t until the sweaty, grimy body hugged her from behind that she was pulled out of her brief reverie.

“Having all the fun without me, love?” Killian murmured in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist and settled his chin on her shoulder.

Emma jumped at the contact. “Killian!” she immediately complained, arching away from him as much as possible and and nearly scratching herself in the process. “What the hell? I was trying to get clean!”

“You don’t honestly expect me to believe that; do you, darling?” he purred, holding onto her even tighter. “What with your hands in your—”

“Ugh!” She grabbed his forearms and pried them apart, stumbling forward as she broke out of his embrace. “Why are you so gross?”

“Me?” He feigned innocence as he stepped into the falling water. “Don’t be such a prude, love, especially when you were the one—”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she huffed, putting her hands on her hips. The way the water ran over his chest, pooling in his collarbones and then falling down the planes of his pectorals, only made her more keenly aware of the fact that she’d been interrupted. “Why are you covered in dirt?”

He shrugged and scratched behind his ear; she couldn’t tell if he was knowingly flexing his bicep or not, but the veins were standing out even more than usual from overuse and she could see where the water was starting to wash away some of the dust from his skin. “I told you I was working on the ship today.”

“Oh, right.” And now the image of him scrubbing the deck, repairing line, polishing wood, et cetera while shirtless and in the sun and wind was playing through her mind, making her shift her stance in search of some friction. Goddammit, this was not helping.

His expression softened and he took another step towards her. Normally, she’d have expected some sort of innuendo; there was no way he hadn’t noticed her movement. But if anything, he looked concerned. “What is it, Emma?”

She sighed and hung her head. “Nothing. It was just a long-ass day, and I was trying to enjoy some alone time and now I can’t even do that because you’re here, looking like that even if you’re kind of disgusting at the moment, and—what?”

A smirk had slowly overtaken his face. “You didn’t need to stop on account of me, love; in fact, I’ll be quiet as a mouse if you wish to continue.”

“Right,” she answered, disbelieving; she knew him too well, and even if she didn’t, the fact that his cock was half hard at just the implication was evidence enough. She could easily picture him taking himself in hand, head thrown back to expose the cords of his neck as he stroked...ah, fuck.

She shook her head and focused on the shelf next to her, then grabbed a bottle of Killian’s body wash and shoved it at him. “Here. Talk to me again when you’re not covered in sea gunk.”

He chuckled deeply as he took the bottle from her—damn her subconscious, she’d accidentally grabbed her favorite of his—and then she turned around; watching whatever he was going to do next would not help at all.

He was surprisingly silent as he cleaned, only humming a bit, so she was at least able to start washing herself in some semblance of peace. Soon, the lavender scent of her soap had her almost as relaxed as she had been prior to her disruption. 

Although, that might have also had something to do with the surreptitious kneading of her pebbled nipples, erect from the cooler air outside the direct spray of the shower head. And maybe a tiny bit from her wandering fingers once she started washing her lower parts.

“Need any help there, love?” Damn him. She didn’t have to look to hear his smirk. 

Sighing defeatedly and removing her hand from her crotch, she tossed back, “I thought I said no talking until there was no sea gunk.”

“As you wish,” he quipped.

Whatever calm they’d found before settled back over them, and Emma contemplated whether or not she wanted to make the effort to shave her legs when Killian spoke up again.

“Love, what’s that thing you sometimes use to bathe with—a loafus? Loota?”

“Loofah,” she supplied, hand hesitating over her razor.

“Aye, that. I believe I have one for you here.”

“What?” Her loofah was next to the razor; what did he...oh, for fuck’s sake. She turned and looked, which she never should have done. 

But there he was, adorably grinning at her, with his chest hair completely lathered up in suds. “See?” he said, proudly puffing out his pecs.

Her jaw just dropped; she literally had no idea how to react. It was simultaneously precious, hot, and weird enough that her overstrained mind just couldn’t process it.

He didn’t give her much of a chance to, though. “Let’s wash you off, darling,” he practically purred as he grabbed her hand and tugged her back into his arms. She collided with his chest with an “oof!” and was pretty sure they were going to fall over, but Killian took a step back to brace against her impact before shifting back into her.

And by “into her,” she almost meant  _ into  _ her; as soon as he was pressed close, she could feel the hardness of his erection against her core. That paired with the soft yet coarse brush of his soapy chest hair against her already-sensitive breasts made her breathe in sharply and dig her fingers into his biceps.

Okay, so, maybe she didn’t completely want to be alone. Maybe he was okay. (She’d married him for a reason, after all.)

“Liked that, eh?” But he sounded way too smug for her to let him know that. 

She shrugged. “A bit, I guess.”

“Only a bit?” he complained, punctuating the protestation by flexing his chest up and down against hers, which also brushed his hard length against her wanting clit. 

In her surprise and euphoria at the sensation, she gasped. “Okay, more than a bit,” she conceded, and pressed herself as tight to him as she could, head on his shoulder, feeling every tiny move of his muscles against hers. 

“Much better than your fingers, no?”

And then he ruined it; hadn’t he figured out she wasn’t in the mood for crass? She groaned. “Seriously? Why are you so—” She tried to push away but he was giggling and holding even tighter. “Would you stop—” she admonished, but was cut off by the feel of his scruff on her neck as he pressed kisses to it. “Ugh, you’re being—” adorable, annoying; both came to mind, but she couldn’t get anything out because then his thigh was between her legs and she was instinctively grinding against it before she could think about it. 

Not now. Just—not now.

So she pushed on his chest, trying to get away from the easy temptation he was offering up. But he must have misinterpreted or something, because he started nipping at the spot just below her ear that always made her melt. Oh, dammit—she was falling back to him.

Wait, no—she was actually falling this time. And so was he. The tub was kind of covered in body wash, wasn’t it?

She wasn’t sure how exactly it happened, but between Killian already being off balance and her shoving, they went from upright to horizontal very quickly and not at all sexily. There was nothing hot about knees crashing into enamel and the thud of a head hitting iron.

“Oh my god—are you okay?” she fussed, once she got over her own jolt. Her hands immediately started going through Killian’s hair, looking for any bumps.

He winced a bit but then shook his head. “I’m fine, love,” he answered, though he sounded like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. “A very intelligent woman once told me my skull was abnormally thick, and she was obviously right.” 

(That wasn’t what she had meant—she had actually been yelling at him about throwing away her Pop-Tarts again—but okay.) 

“I believe my arse took the brunt of it anyway.” 

(Ohh, his ass—his perfect, round, fuzzy butt; she was pretty sure it was the inspiration for the peach emoji. Okay, now she was the one sounding like she’d hit her head.)

“And besides, I dare say I prefer this view, you perched on my thighs, even if the tub itself is rather cool.” To emphasize his point, he leered at her bare breasts, then looked back up with both a cocked grin and eyebrow.

And yeah, the feel of his coarser leg hair against her (mostly) smooth skin was doing some things to her.

“Please, love,” he murmured gently, expression softening again as he tucked a wet bit of hair behind her ear. “Let me help you take a load off; that’s all I want to do.”

She sighed as all of her resolve dissolved in the face of those expressive blue eyes peeking out from his wet fringe. “Well, when you put it that way,” she finally conceded, and leaned over to finally find his lips.

The shower was falling on her back and dripping onto him as they proceeded to make out under the stream, the dual sensation of the hot water on one side and hot him on the other doing nothing to relieve any tension—only furthering it. She started to move, trying to get any friction she could, while his hand skimmed her side and found her breast. His thumb slid over it easily; it was just as slick with his body wash as she probably was down below.

After what seemed like ages of rutting without getting anywhere—though her left boob was feeling pretty loved—Killian broke away from her. She followed, and then whined when he still ducked away, But then he lifted his torso to bring his mouth up to her ear and whispered, “Take your pleasure, Emma; I’m all yours.”

Well, damn. Let it never be said that Killian Jones didn’t know how to make a woman swoon, because if Emma hadn’t been so ready to go, she would have literally had hearts in her eyes then. (Granted, he did that to her at least three times a day for myriad reasons, so this was just another on the ever-growing list.)

She sat back on her haunches and summoned the silicone lube from the shower shelf; she didn’t want to take the time to stand (and also didn’t want to risk falling on him and completely ruining everything). He was still obviously hard, and gave a gentle moan that vibrated in her core when she rubbed his shaft with a dollop of the stuff.

Then she set it aside (well, more like tossed it...somewhere), scooted up on her knees a bit, and carefully slid down onto his waiting length. She threw her head back and let out a sigh of relief when he was fully sheathed within her; that was exactly what she’d been waiting for.

His hand and stump found her hips and he squeezed. “Bloody stunning, my darling,” he said, in an awestruck tone; when she glanced back down, he was gazing up at her reverently. “Go on,” he encouraged, nodding.

Grinning, she bent back down to find his lips again, slipping her arms below his to brace them on the cold tub below, and began to move at the same languid pace she was kissing him. But she was too wound up to keep it slow, and quickly found herself hastening her speed.

Kissing gave way to panting as she chased her release on his cock, with only enough self awareness to make sure she wasn’t knocking him around too hard—the tub wasn’t really that big. But, god, he just felt so good, and even when he let her lead, he still knew all the tiny movements and touches she liked to get her closer to the edge.

She was nearing the precipice and could barely see Killian’s face with the way the shower was hanging her hair in her face, but she was distinctly aware of his fingers trailing across her abdomen to where they were joined. “Come for me, love,” he begged, finding her clit with his rough fingers and applying the perfect amount of pressure.

And she was gone. She came with a shout that could barely be heard over the falling water, but the only person who needed to hear it was right there with her, still pumping gently into her as her orgasm washed over her like the shower from overhead.

Moments later, she felt him still beneath her as he found his own climax; she loved how good they were at finding release together.

Once he had some semblance of his faculties again, he carefully lifted his legs up to slide her both off of his softening cock and into the nestle of his arms, watching that she didn’t crack her head on the tub either. They were content to let the shower do the job of cleaning up after sex for the moment while they stayed in the other’s embrace.

Her fingers had gotten pruny by the time either of them spoke again. “Well, did it work?” he asked in a soft tone that bordered on cheeky.

Her initial reaction was to snark back, but she couldn’t bring herself to. “It did. Thank you, Killian. I love you.”

“I love you too, my stubborn Swan,” he answered, then brushed her hair off her face and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Perhaps we should finish showering now?”

It was her turn to smirk. “Yeah, probably. You’re still pretty dirty, you know,” she teased, despite being surrounded by the scent of Old Spice Swagger. “But don’t worry—I’ll make sure you get cleaned up.”

“Oh, you will?” He seemed to like that idea.

“Mhmm. Come on.”

(It took them another hour to finally get clean.)


End file.
